In Sickness and in Health
by ToothFairy
Summary: TonyMichelle, takes place a few months before Day 3. Sometimes even the strongest people get sick...


_Okay so this one is a little longer than I'd intended it to be… sorry about that :s. I actually wrote it while I was out with the flu myself, so regarding the symptoms, I know what I'm talking about! lol. I really had fun writing it though, it made my miserable sick days somewhat less miserable :)_

_I should probably also add this: I'm not very good at making up background stories for characters, so once I've found one I like, I tend to stick to it. That's why I decided to use some characters from my story 'Evolution'. For those of you who didn't read it, this is what you need to know: Tony is the middle son of an American mother (Barbara) and a Hispanic father (Santiago), who is a doctor. You wanna know more? Read 'Evolution':p lol _

Tony had just finished cutting up the carrots when he heard the front door open and Michelle's heels echoing in the hallway. Today had been his first day off in weeks and he hadn't done much of anything all day, but as evening approached he had decided he would surprise his undoubtedly exhausted wife with a home-cooked meal when she returned from the office.

He looked up and smiled at her when she entered the room. "Hey."

He dumped her purse on the counter and rubbed her eyes tiredly before quietly mumbling back, "Hey."

He frowned. Usually she was a little more enthusiastic to see him after they'd spent the day apart.

"You alright?" he questioned softly, noting she looked pale.

When she didn't answer he pulled her to him by her elbow. "C'mere."

She allowed him to wrap her up in a warm embrace, resting her head against his chest as her arms found their way around his waist. She closed her eyes and granted herself a moment of bliss.

He frowned again as the heat radiating from her body penetrated his own. "Michelle…" He moved his hand up to her forehead. "You're burning up, you've gotta have a temperature of…"

He pulled back to make her look at him. "How long have you felt like this? Why didn't you come home if you were sick?"

She shrugged.

"Michelle."

She shot him an exasperated look. "Because I couldn't, Tony. You had the day off, District would probably think I was faking it so we could have time off together."

He knew she might have a point. Although they had been married for well over a year, certain people at Division still seemed still seemed traumatized by the prospect, still suspicious and wary of allowing their marriage to intervene with the job.

_They'd probably demand the testimony of at least three witnesses who saw her throw up in the bathroom before they'd believe her_, he thought bitterly.

"So you should have called me then. I would have gone in."

She pulled herself out of his grasp in a stubborn gesture. "No. You needed this day off."

He threw his head back and fought the urge to roll his eyes, feeling worry and impatience creep up his throat. He hated it when she did that, hated that inexplicable need of hers to always do what was best for everyone, at her own cost.

"Michelle, for Christ's sake… Look at you, you look like you're about to freeze. Going to work like that, it's just… it's just irresponsible!"

She twisted her shoulders away from away from him and he grimaced inwardly.

_Great. Helluva time to start yelling at her, Almeida._

He went over to her and gently rubbed her arms, trying in vain to warm her up. "Hey…" He kissed her hair. "You should go to bed. Or are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "I'm gonna take a shower first and then turn in."

"Okay."

He released her and watched her disappear up the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later he headed towards the bathroom after hearing the shower being shut off. He found her, wrapped up in a towel but still shaking like a leaf.

"No hot water?" he asked sympathetically.

She shook her head. "No, there was hot water. I just can't get warm, that's all."

He watched her clumsily try to pull on her underwear without loosing any warmth from the towel and instinctively reached out to help.

"Here."

He held the towel firmly in place as she finished with her underwear and then stepped into a pair of flannel pants, only loosening it as she made to pull a sweatshirt over her head.

"Thanks."

She brushed her teeth and pulled on a pair of socks before crawling into the blissfully warm bed. He approached her and wordlessly handed her a thermometer.

When it beeped a minute later, she pulled it out of her mouth and checked it before handing it back to him.

"101."

He scratched the side of his face. "Alright, I'm gonna call my dad and have him come over and look at you in the morning."

Michelle groaned internally. As much as she loved Tony's father, she hated doctors almost even more. Especially when it was her they were checking up on.

"Tony, is that really necessary? He's just gonna say I have some kind of viral infection and that he can't to a thing about it except feed me aspirin."

He chuckled a little in spite of himself at her own diagnosis, bending down to kiss her goodnight. "Night, baby."

She sighed, knowing there would be no talking him out of it. "Night."

--

When he went to bed a few hours later he was horrified to find her shivering in her sleep, her teeth chattering and goose bumps visible all along her neck. He scooted closer and pulled her in, engulfing her into his warmth and rubbing her back to force the shakes out.

"Tony," she murmured sleepily, "You really shouldn't come too close, I'm probably contagious."

He ignored her and just pulled the covers more tightly around them. She stayed in his arms for the remainder of the night.

When the alarm clock went off at six-thirty, he automatically reached out a hand and shut it off. He felt her stir and reaffirmed his grip, hoping she would doze off again, but after a moment she first rubbed her eyes and then opened them.

"How you feelin'?" he whispered.

Her eyes closed again as she burrowed into his chest. "A little better than yesterday, I guess."

"That's good." He ran a hand over her hair and kissed the top of her head. "Listen, I'm gonna have to go in today, I have that meeting at Division with Hammond. But I called my dad, he said he could fit you in around noon."

She didn't answer, and he kissed the top of her head again before slowly untangling himself and wrapping the covers securely around her again before leaving the bed.

By the time he was ready to leave for the office, she was once again sound asleep.

--

Michelle felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder, and swatted it away sleepily.

"Tony, don't," she mumbled.

She heard a low chuckle, and a familiar voice. "Sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. It's just me."

She peered up through half-open eyes at the grinning face of her father-in-law. She quickly sat up, ignoring the dizziness this action brought to her head.

"Oh… Sorry."

"Not a problem." He pulled up a chair. "I let myself in with the key Tony once gave us in case of an emergency. I hope you don't mind."

She shook her head. "It's fine."

Santiago Almeida set down his doctor's case and leaned back in his chair. "So what's the problem?"

"Oh…" Michelle felt a blush creep to her cheeks. "Just… y'know, something of a fever. Plus everything hurts; my head, my throat, my glands… and just about every muscle in my body." She closed her mouth and mentally told herself to stop whining.

Santi eyed her with a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Something of a fever? Tony said you had 101 last night."

She opened her mouth to argue but nothing came out, which only made her blush deepen its color.

Santi smiled and said kindly, "Alright, sit up straight. I'm gonna check you over."

He was about half-way through his check-up when he heard a noise from downstairs. He looked at his daughter-in-law and could tell by her wide-eyed expression that she had heard it as well.

Footsteps.

Someone was in the house.

"Okay," Michelle said, her voice quiet but even, "Okay, stay here, stay calm. Everything's gonna be okay."

Quiet as a mouse, she made to get up from the bed, but stopped when the footsteps became more prominent. For a moment her face clouded with confusion, but then Santi saw relief and recognition flood her eyes.

"It's…" she said. "It's… Tony."

And sure enough, just a few seconds later the door of the bedroom opened and Tony entered, looking grim and tired and… sick.

"Hey, son," Santi said after a moment of surprised silence. "I thought you said you had to work the whole day."

"I did," Tony said testily, "But they sent me home. Said I looked pale or some kinda crap."

Santi fought the urge to grin. This was the man who had complained over the phone just last night that his wife was an ungracious patient.

Michelle, on the other hand, looked exasperated. "Tony, I told you not to come too close last night. Now look at you."

Tony shrugged out of his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Yeah, well… What's done is done."

Santi raised an eyebrow and muttered under his breath, "Oh your mother's gonna love this," before turning his attention back to Michelle to resume her check-up.

Tony stripped down to his boxers and pulled a clean T-shirt over his head, and was slipping into the bed beside Michelle by the time his father had finished with her.

"Influenza," was his conclusion, "You'll need a lot of rest, absolutely no physical efforts. Other than that, there's really nothing I can do for you except tell you to take aspirin when you feel like it."

He got up and moved around to Tony's side of the bed.

"Alright, son, let me have a look at you."

"Why?" Tony demanded, "I probably just have the same thing as Michelle."

"Tony…" Santi said, and Tony complied, though inwardly fuming. He was thirty-six years old – why did he still feel uneasy about disobeying his father when he said his name like that?

He did get the satisfaction of giving Santi an 'I told you so' look when he, predictably, announced that Tony also had the flu. He told himself it had nothing to do with acting like a teenager.

"Now I suggest," Santi said pointedly, while piling his utensils back into his case, "that you both get some rest. Best medicine in the world."

"Yes, sir," Tony muttered, while Michelle replied, somewhat more graciously, "Alright. Thanks for coming, Santi."

The older man smiled lovingly at both of them before leaving the room.

Tony waited till he heard the front door close, then snuggled closer to Michelle and wrapped an arm around her, seeking her warmth as his own body was succumbing to the chills of fever.

At her dubious look, he demanded, "What? It's too late, we're both sick. Your germs can't do anything to me anymore."

She smiled a little at his sarcasm before twisting into his body with a contented sigh. Limbs entwined and sleep soon pulled them into peaceful oblivion.

--

When Tony awoke the bedroom was dark except for a small light that had been turned on by… someone. Before he had time to process his surroundings, the door opened and a determined-looking sixty-year-old woman marched in, holding two steaming bowls.

"Ma," Tony groaned as he let himself fall back against the mattress, "What're you doing here?"

"Well," Barbara Almeida said calmly, "Your father informed me of your ill fortune and I decided to came over and make you both some chicken soup."

"Oh jeez," was all Tony could say. He felt Michelle start to wake up next to him and swallowed down some other rude remark he would undoubtedly regret once it dawned on him that his mother was only doing this out of love.

Barbara gave Michelle a minute to fully wake up, then wasted no time nudging bowls of hot chicken soup into their hands, warning them not to spill. Tony's initial irritation at his mother's intrusiveness quickly dissipated once he tasted the delicious liquid she was famous for within the family.

"Thought you might enjoy that," Barbara said, obviously pleased with herself. "I also took the liberty of finishing the laundry and cleaning the kitchen, because well… Let's just say whoever does the cooking around here should learn to clean up after himself."

She shot a pointed look at her son while Michelle tried to hide her grin behind her bowl.

"That's it," Tony grumbled in Michelle's direction, "We're taking that key back."

Barbara stayed for quite a while – chattering, fussing and generally just taking the reins as she had done when her children were young and sick and in need of her care. It was well past nine when Tony finally cleared his throat and said, "Ma, you remember Dad? The physician? The one you're married to?"

Barbara gave her son a stern look. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Well…" Tony shot Michelle a cautious look, knowing by now that 'operation throwing his mother out' needed to be handled with extreme subtlety and finesse as always, or all hell would break loose. "My guess is that he's getting pretty hungry."

Barbara glanced at her watch and jumped up. "Would you look at the time! Well, I really must be going. I don't have all day, y'know," she added, as if her two patients had dramatically insisted they couldn't get by without her.

And after a few more hectic minutes of goodbyes and take cares and I want you to do exactly as your father saids, Barbara blew her son and daughter-in-law a kiss and was gone.

Tony let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against his pillow with his eyes closed. After a moment he opened them and said to Michelle, "I say we move away from here while we still have the chance. Sound good?"

"Like to Santa Clara?" Michelle said hopefully, listing her favorite of the Santa's.

Tony's mouth twitched though the rest of his face remained stoic. "I was thinking more along the lines of Timbuktu."

--

Three evenings later, both Tony and Michelle were feeling a lot more like themselves. No longer quite so feverish, they had been able to spend most of the day enjoying each other's company. It happened so very rarely that their days off were simultaneous that now, despite the occasional headaches and coughing fits, this was a real treat.

Santi had advised them to take it easy for one more day before throwing themselves once more at the mercy of their careers, but they had decided to go back to the office the following morning anyway. It wasn't that they didn't want another day off together, but neither felt right staying home when they really did feel well enough to do something useful.

So now they were sprawled on the couch watching the late evening news, enjoying one last moment of peace before starting to mentally prepare themselves for the state CTU would be in after four days of their absence.

Feeling Michelle starting to doze against his shoulder, Tony shut off the TV with the remote and said softly into her hair, "Wanna go to bed?"

Her eyes fluttered but other than that she didn't move a muscle. "Not really, we've practically spent the last four days in bed."

He smirked a little. "Since when do you have a problem with time spent in bed?"

"Since we've been sleeping there more than we've been able to do… other stuff," was her casual reply, and he could see a blush creep upon her cheeks despite her eyes still being closed.

He waited a split second before grabbing her and pinning her body beneath him on the couch, biting back a laugh at the flabbergasted look on her face. He pressed his lips firmly against hers, waiting a moment before tempting her mouth open with his tongue and deepening the kiss.

"Are you hinting at something?" he asked slyly when they broke apart, enjoying her breathlessness.

Failing to come up with a snide retort, she settled for pulling his mouth back against hers, tightening her arms around his neck possessively.

He pulled back after a moment and smiled at her as their eyes met. His hands almost instinctively framed her face and he felt his heart melt a little as it always did when she looked at him like that, her gaze a mixture of affection and vulnerability.

"I love you." Then, his voice even softer, as if in an afterthought, "When's the last time I told you I love you?"

She smiled subtly and decided to tease him a little, to get back at him for earlier. "Oh, ages ago."

He chuckled and would have laughed out loud if it weren't for that tiny twinge of guilt that insisted that her words were probably true. Time flew by when she was around, and sometimes he had to remind himself to cherish every moment of it.

"Well, I do." He kissed the tip of her nose in confirmation.

She slowly raised her hips so she could wrap her long legs around his waist, smiling seductively. "How much?"

He matched her grin and was more than willing to play along, knowing perfectly well how their game would end. "A _lot_."

"Really?"

He nodded, his face all seriousness except for his eyes.

"Show me," she breathed.

And he scooped her up in his arms, loving the sound of her laughter as he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom…


End file.
